


Dread In My Heart

by thorinoakenbutt



Series: Freedom and Redemption [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Protective Dorian, a little spicy at the beginning, but this isn't a smut fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25164475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorinoakenbutt/pseuds/thorinoakenbutt
Summary: Dorian drifted somewhere between sleep and wakefulness when he faintly heard the door to the Inquisitor’s personal chambers creak open. He sluggishly registered the sound of bare feet padding up the stone staircase and across the room, followed by the soft rustling of clothing being discarded. A moment later, he felt the mattress dip under a familiar weight. Forcing his eyes open, he reached out to pull Revas against his chest. “Abelas, ma lath,” Revas whispered apologetically. “I didn’t intend to wake you.”
Relationships: Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Series: Freedom and Redemption [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813036
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	Dread In My Heart

Dorian drifted somewhere between sleep and wakefulness when he faintly heard the door to the Inquisitor’s personal chambers creak open. He sluggishly registered the sound of bare feet padding up the stone staircase and across the room, followed by the soft rustling of clothing being discarded. A moment later, he felt the mattress dip under a familiar weight. Forcing his eyes open, he reached out to pull Revas against his chest. “Abelas, ma lath,” Revas whispered apologetically. “I didn’t intend to wake you.”

“Think nothing of it,” Dorian responded, voice still rough from sleep. “I planned on waiting up for you, but it appears your meeting with the advisors ran later than expected, yes?” Revas hummed an affirmative and leaned in to brush their lips together in a light caress. 

One kiss became two, two became many more until Dorian found himself panting and pressing his hips up against Revas’ as the elf sat perched atop him, lavishing open-mouthed kisses along the column of his throat. A small voice reminded him that this wasn’t the reason he had wanted to see his lover before bed, even as his hands grasped the elf’s slender hips for better control over the delicious friction.

“Revas,” he gasped, breath hitching as the Inquisitor paused to suck a love bite into the juncture of Dorian’s neck and shoulder. Pulling back to admire his handiwork, Revas flashed his teeth in a devious smile before continuing to kiss a trail down the human’s chest. Well, perhaps Dorian could afford to allow the elf his way for a moment longer. Maker knew he would much rather put that clever tongue to a much more pleasurable task than talking.

A sharp nip at his hip brought Dorian’s attention back to Revas, who was now kneeling between his spread thighs. The elf locked eyes with him, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth as he leaned back down to press a chaste kiss to the tip of Dorian’s cock. Exhaling harshly, Dorian threaded his fingers through Revas’ hair, uncertain whether he wanted to encourage the elf further or push him away. “Revas, there’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you.”

Dorian felt more than he heard Revas’ sigh, a puff of hot air against his flesh that made his toes curl. “ _Now_?” the Inquisitor asked incredulously. It would be all too easy to give in to the temptation his lover so willingly offered. He could always breach this subject another time. Although with how busy Revas was with his duties, running to and fro, who knew when the next opportunity would arise?

When Dorian hesitated to respond, Revas ran the bridge of his nose teasingly along the human’s rigid length, tongue darting out to tease at the skin there. Groaning, Dorian tried and failed to resist the urge to buck his hips upwards and fisted his hand still in the elf’s silken hair. He yanked, desperate to get some room to think clearly and immediately regretted it as he heard Revas moan lustfully at the abuse. Dorian’s mouth went dry at the heated look the elf pinned him with. _Fasta vass_. 

He released Revas’ hair as though scalded and cleared his throat as he tried to find his voice. “Yes, I would like to speak of this _now_ ,” he managed to croak out. He cleared his throat for a second time, not missing the Dalish mage’s grumble of displeasure. Regardless, the elf decided to humor him, propping his head up on Dorian’s thigh and watching him expectantly. “You often joke about death as though it is a trivial thing. Your own death, specifically.”

“Is _that_ what all this is about? Fear not, vhenan, I have no immediate plans for my very likely untimely demise,” Revas assured, patting Dorian’s leg in a comforting gesture. It might have worked were it not for the thinly veiled patronizing tone or the fact that the Inquisitor’s other hand was slowly inching towards his cock again. 

Feeling his temper flare, Dorian roughly grabbed the elf’s wrist, halting his progress. “Be serious for once, Inquisitor,” he snapped irritably. He watched as Revas’ eyes went hard as steel and worried that the Dalish would try to fight him on this. “ _Please_.”

That soft plea caused Revas to deflate, his eyes softening to a molten silver. He sighed again, casting one last longing look between Dorian’s legs. Then he crawled up beside the man on the bed, making sure to keep a small distance between them. “Very well, let’s talk.” Dorian could have sworn that his lover was pouting, but at least he was seemingly willing to cooperate. 

“What are you doing all the way over there, amatus? Come here,” he urged, wrapping his arm around Revas’ hips. 

“No. One of us might become _distracted_ ,” Revas responded waspishly. Ah. Yes, he was definitely sulking. 

“Come _here_ ,” Dorian insisted, hauling the elf closer. He enveloped his arms loosely around the elf and was pleased when he leaned into the embrace immediately instead of trying to wriggle away.

Eventually, the Inquisitor took a fortifying breath and drew back far enough to look Dorian in the eye. “So. You wish to talk about…my death?” he asked hesitantly.

“About the fact that you have such a cavalier attitude regarding it, preferably,” Dorian kept his voice soft to hide the slight tremor it held. 

“And this troubles you?” Revas asked, frowning. Dorian nodded. “Why? I can remember more than a few occasions of you yourself mentioning becoming martyrs.” 

Dorian reached up to cradle Revas’ face in his hand, his thumb slowly tracing the vallaslin that curved along the elf’s cheek. “I apologize for being flippant,” he breathes, whispering the words so softly that Revas’ ears had to twitch forward to catch them. “The thought of you ceasing to be…I can’t bear it. I would give anything to be able to stay with you like this forever.”

Revas shook his head rapidly. “Do not fear death, vhenan. It’s the natural balance to life. All that lives must eventually fade so that another life may thrive in its place,” he said quietly, taking Dorian’s hand in one of his own. He pressed a kiss to the human’s palm before lacing their fingers together.

“Is that a common belief among your people?”

Revas shrugged, giving a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose it is. Falon’Din, my chosen god, used to guide us on our journeys into the Beyond upon our deaths, but…that was before he and his brethren were locked away by Fen’Harel. Nowadays, the specifics on what happens are a bit vague,” Revas explained, laughing humorlessly.

Dorian was quiet for a long moment, bowing his head as he thought. “Is that what you believe?” he finally asked, meeting the elf’s gaze once more. For all the time he’d spent in Revas’ company, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d encountered the Dalish praying to his gods. Either his amatus was incredibly private about his faith or he wasn’t terribly pious. Considering how open he was about information regarding his people, Dorian suspected it was the latter. 

“I believe it’s as plausible as your people believing that your souls join with Andraste and your Maker once you expire,” Revas remarked, shrugging a second time. The elf took ahold of Dorian’s other hand, clasping them tightly between his own with an oddly shy look settling across his features. “Since we’re already on the subject, I was wondering if there is something I could request of you.”

“ _Anything_.”

The Inquisitor grinned lopsidedly at the immediate response, the kind of smile that made Dorian’s heart ache. “Anything? You might want to wait to hear what exactly it is I want from you before agreeing. What if I were to ask you to swap clothes with Solas for a week?” he teased. Dorian wrinkled his nose in disgust, causing Revas to laugh before he sobered again. “Dor, you know how most of those here view me as a…holy icon because of this mark on my hand, yes?”

Dorian’s eyes darted unbidden to their intertwined hands. “Yes. I also know how much you despise it.”

The elf shifted uncomfortably, drawing Dorian’s eyes back up in time to see Revas glance away with an unreadable look. “If…if something does happen to me, I want a Dalish ceremony. Would you be willing to see to that?”

Dorian hummed thoughtfully, freeing one hand to rub at the stubble on his jaw. The Chantry would no doubt desire to give the Inquisitor a traditional Andrastian pyre. He wasn’t sure how easy it would be to ensure that Revas’ wish was fulfilled. “What exactly would that entail? I know that you don’t burn your dead and there were the trees in the Dales, but…” he trailed off helplessly.

“It might be easier if you were able to pass me off to a clan, but they wouldn’t likely allow - I mean, if you would even want to…” Revas began, the words coming fast in his nervous state. Dorian caressed the elf’s hand that he still held, hoping the contact would calm him. “I would like for you to be there, Dorian. If you have no objections - I could teach you the proper way to prepare…and the songs and prayers, and-”

Dorian gripped Revas by the back of his neck and pulled him until their foreheads rested against each other, cutting off the elf’s rambling. “I would be honored,” he vowed, firmly. Revas relaxed immediately, sagging against Dorian in relief. They sat there together in the dimness of the room, Dorian petting the elf’s hair in long soothing strokes until both drifted off into sleep.


End file.
